Hermione had never seen a blacker sky in all her life. The wispy tendril-
like couds swirled menacingly in the sky, threatening to drop their liquid
cargo at any moment. A cool wind whipped across her pink cheeks and she
shivered and gathered her scarf closer to her neck. A lightning bold
stretched across the sky, the accompanying thunder bellowing as if to
announce its presence. The brief moment of light that the electricy
provided illuminated the Hogwarts grounds. Rows of students were strewn
about the lush grassy hills. Despite the fact that Hermione was shaking she
held her wand steadily at her side, trying desperately to hold her posture.
Her gaze fell upon the professor's who together formed the first line of battle. Even professor Flitwick, crooked posture and all, stood, head held high, ready for the approaching combat. Next to him stood Minerva McGonagall. Hours earlier Hermione had looked on in horror as McGonagall, the toughest woman she had ever known fell into Dumbledore's arms as her powerful sobs racked her body. That moment had struck genuine terror into Hermione's heart. She had finally realized the magnitude of what was to take place the evening. And now, she stood, wand ready, beckoning the challenge.
She looked to her left, there stood the boy who lived, nervously fiddling with the left sleeve of his cloak. He smoothed down his hair for the twentieth time and then caught Hermione's eye. He smiled reluctantly and took hold of her hand. She could feel his sweaty palms shaking beneath her grip. Harry quickly released her hand, letting it fall limply to her side. The death eaters were appearing now, at the lakeshore. Dumbledore raised his wand high in the air. Hermione tried to swallow, though nothing was permitted to pass beyond the lump that was blocking her airway. She watched as the wand was lowered.The battle had begun.
Her gaze fell upon the professor's who together formed the first line of battle. Even professor Flitwick, crooked posture and all, stood, head held high, ready for the approaching combat. Next to him stood Minerva McGonagall. Hours earlier Hermione had looked on in horror as McGonagall, the toughest woman she had ever known fell into Dumbledore's arms as her powerful sobs racked her body. That moment had struck genuine terror into Hermione's heart. She had finally realized the magnitude of what was to take place the evening. And now, she stood, wand ready, beckoning the challenge.
She looked to her left, there stood the boy who lived, nervously fiddling with the left sleeve of his cloak. He smoothed down his hair for the twentieth time and then caught Hermione's eye. He smiled reluctantly and took hold of her hand. She could feel his sweaty palms shaking beneath her grip. Harry quickly released her hand, letting it fall limply to her side. The death eaters were appearing now, at the lakeshore. Dumbledore raised his wand high in the air. Hermione tried to swallow, though nothing was permitted to pass beyond the lump that was blocking her airway. She watched as the wand was lowered.The battle had begun.